


Boat Smut

by rosenshyne



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Breathplay, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:52:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosenshyne/pseuds/rosenshyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>580 words of boat smut. Does what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boat Smut

They've been at this for hours. Long enough for the sun to sink from low in the sky to hiding behind the horizon, the waves in every direction capped with red and orange and amber, the sky darkening to purple, pinprick stars fading in overhead.  


Nick settles back into the captain's chair, Kelly's wrists clamped tightly in his grasp. Kelly's moan is soft, panting, and he hangs his head, giving Nick a glorious view of the trail of bite marks decorating his spine. The setting sun turns the marks purple, turns Kelly's skin gold, and Nick can't resist leaning forward. The shift in weight inspires a gasp that makes him grin sharply even as he sets his teeth around the knob of bone at the base of Kelly's neck. The sound shifts into a whimper as he presses; he can feel the matching growl begin low in his throat and he bites harder, until the whimper becomes a cry, and Kelly's breath begins to hitch. He pulls back, momentarily satisfied, and admires the fresh imprint, how Kelly is splayed across his lap. Head bowed, spine curved, all those lovely teeth marks shouting mine, _mine_ , **_MINE_** , Kelly's toes just glancing off the deck. He waits long enough for Kelly to catch his breath, to gasp out his name, before tightening his grip, pulling Kelly back as he resumes fucking that sweet ass.  


“Something you need, babe?” Nick chuckles lowly while Kelly whines and writhes, desperate for traction, to get away, to come closer. There are what sound like several aborted words before Kelly gives up, shaking his head and gasping as he rides. Nick sets a steady pace, deep and slow, fingers clenching and releasing one by one around the bones in Kelly's wrist as he plays him like a fiddle.  


Nick widens his stance after long minutes that feel like hours, time stretched like taffy in the low light of dusk, releases Kelly's wrists only to slide his left hand over his belly, presses his nails to scratch Kelly's chest, until his hand is wrapped firmly around Kelly's throat, thumb hard in the hollow below his jaw. Kelly gasps and pants, but he doesn't tense, doesn't fight, he melts into Nick's body like chocolate in summer, skin slick and sticky, eyes closed, his head tipped back against Nick's shoulder and hot breath whispering through slack lips. Nick licks the salt from his exposed neck, plays at nipping his carotid until Kelly whines.  


“Mine,” he growls, vibrations trapped against skin. His right hand thumbs at Kelly's ribs, grabs hard at defined muscle while Kelly pants and shakes and forces out “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” his pulse fluttering like a bird in Nick's grasp. He tightens his grip, puts his mouth to Kelly's ear and grits out “No, mine, say it, _say it_.” His fingers tighten until there's silence, nothing but the sound of calm water and birds at twilight, Kelly's gasps held prisoner for a single moment that seems to stretch into eternity.  


Nick drags in a breath that feels pulled from his very core, and softens his grip; Kelly's soft “Yours,” is immediate, and he comes on his next breath, spine arching, bound to Earth by nothing but Nick's hands on his body. He bows forward again, panting, and Nick presses his face into the hollow between Kelly's shoulder blades and gives in, the air in his lungs frozen in sympathy, humbled by Kelly's surrender.  


It's eons before he can breathe again.


End file.
